Lines on My Face from the Word of God
by Zenthisoror
Summary: Masashi Kishimoto drew those lines on Itachi's face - now some Naruto characters find themselves contemplating what those lines actually are. In three parts, it's time to get to the bottom of those lines.
1. The Akatsuki Play with Cards

"I think they're wrinkles."

Deidara and Tobi looked up from their cards. To their surprise, Kisame was frowning into his hands. His mouth was twisted and his face was a picture of puzzlement usually reserved for schoolboys on a history test. They had stopped in a clearing in a bamboo copse for a brief respite and were sat around a little yellow fire. Initially Itachi had been with them, but as soon as Deidara had pulled out a pack of cards, he had stalked off into the undergrowth as regal as a panther.

"What are?" Deidara peered critically at Kisame's hand of cards. "Are you saying my cards have been tampered with? The last person who borrowed them was that loser Hidan -"

"I was just thinking," Kisame looked over his shoulder into the darkness beyond the firelight, "about the lines on Itachi-san's face."

There was a moment of silent contemplation. Samehada growled and made gurgling noises from behind Kisame's back, and three pairs of eyes slid towards the spot where Itachi had disappeared into the woods. A gentle breeze hissed through the bamboo leaves and rattled the branches.

"You mean," Deidara licked his lips and lowered his voice as he turned around, "the scars?"

Kisame put down his cards and folded his arms. "Scars? I thought they were wrinkles."

"Sure they're scars," Deidara continued, and he nodded and grunted with approval at his own words. "There's art in explosions, isn't there? Those scars are a kind of art. He did those scars to himself. He carved his own pain into his face with the explosiveness of his feelings – "

"Itachi-san wouldn't do anything so flashy," Kisame protested, shaking his head.

"Ah, but sirs, wasn't he the one who suggested we wear nail varnish?" Tobi pointed out.

"That has a practical use though," said Kisame, even though he looked at his own nails with some distaste. "The matt finish and dark colour stops our nails catching the light when our hands move, so small hand movements go unnoticed, and we can maintain our element of surprise when we draw our weapons. It's like when we paint the wires in traps to stop them glinting."

Deidara snorted and burst out laughing. "What's that? The Gospel of Itachi's Nails? You honestly remembered what he said word for word?"

"I've been using them to try and convince myself every day," Kisame sighed and glared ruefully down at his painted toenails.

"Well, it must work, otherwise none of us would still be doing it," Tobi said cheerfully, throwing down his cards to tuck his hands up his sleeves. "The scars on Itachi's face, I heard once from Sasori, who heard it from Kakuzu, who heard it from Hidan, that Konan put them there."

Deidara spewed out the barley tea he had put to his mouth. "_Konan _put them there? Rubbish! What the hell? Konan? Those scars on Itachi's face are giant paper cuts?"

"He had those lines way before we met Konan," said Kisame. He shook his head and raised his hands up to his ears. "And anyway, Itachi-san isn't that kind of man, you know. He's a gentleman. He wouldn't invade a lady's space without permission. He wouldn't put his face close enough to Konan for her to target."

"Then when and where did he get those marks on his face? And what are they anyway?" Deidara threw down his hands in exasperation and thumped the ground at his feet so hard the stones in the fire jumped.

Kisame sat back and after a moment of thought, nodded. "Then they've got to be wrinkles."

"Isn't he a bit young for that?" Tobi suggested, his voice quavering a little. He risked another peep over his shoulder into the deep blue foliage around them.

A huge white moth, its wings scaled and shimmering, was flapping about their heads. Kisame shrugged and ignored the feeling that the forest was watching them. "People can be old beyond their years? You know, seen a lot, done a lot."

Tobi lifted a finger to the single eye hole of his mask as though to flick away a tear. "Seen things no poor young kid should have seen."

"More like, 'Done things no poor young kid should have done', in _that_ one's case," Deidara said darkly.

"They're the wrinkles of a pressured childhood," wept Tobi into his sleeve. "They must be. Oh, poor, poor Itachi-san – "

"But in Akatsuki,"cut in Kisame, with another frown, "none of us have had especially normal childhoods, so why don't we all have those face wrinkles?"

"That's because the only one who dwells on his past and broods about it is Itachi," Deidara said, grunting with satisfaction again, as he raised a finger to prove his point. "It means that he relives the stress over and over again. That's why his face is aging faster than the rest of him. It's the bit closest to his brain. It shows his brain aging. Like cheese."

"So they're a sign that Itachi-san thinks too much?"

All of a sudden a wind swept through the clearing, picking up the cards and flinging them up into the air.

"My cards!" Deidara cried, springing up to snatch them from the wind.

The fire erupted into fizzing cloud of sparks. It crackled, spat then just as suddenly died down to nothing but a sullen orange glow in the gloom. Tobi screamed and clung to Deidara, who instantly pushed him off. The deep blue of the dark closed in. It seemed to be thick with shadows, and the shadows flickered like flames.

"_Who_ thinks too much?" a voice rang out from the forest, deep and cold.

A pair of glowing red spots hovered at the edge of the clearing.


	2. Kakashi-Sensei's Dog Breeding Class

**Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, who created the Naruto cast. None of the characters are my own (except the dog).**

**Author's Note: Thank you, Eland Vary, for the information and Anilon for your review! **

* * *

They had been tracking the rogue ninja for three days through the trees and along the river, but when they came to the marshland on the border of the Land of Fire there was not a trace of him to be seen.

"Not a single step further, Naruto," said Kakashi, throwing out his hand as the boy prepared to spring forward into the mist.

"But Kakashi-sensei! He's out there. We can still catch him – "

"If you know the way through the marshes, then by all means," Kakashi's eye crinkled at the corners in a smile. "But, I've heard that the swamps out there are bottomless, that the friendlier ones spit fire and that the carnivorous plants are exceptionally hungry, especially for stupid, hot-blooded, reckless Konoha ninjas."

Naruto stopped struggling against Kakashi's hand. He straightened to scratch the back of his head. "Maybe not today then," Naruto said. He glared out over the misty marshland as though it had done him a personal insult, simply by existing. "Still bites though, that he got away."

"At least we've managed to learn how the rogue ninjas from the Land of Mud have been getting into the country," Sakura said, although she looked just as glum as Naruto. "We can call that a plus."

"Until we've mapped a safe route through, there's not much we can do." Kakashi put his hands on his hips and the three of them turned back to the wide expanse of mist and purple moss stretching far, far into the distance until the horizon was lost in a bank of cloud.

Naruto sighed and muttered something under his breath. Kakashi smiled again. "Cheer up, Naruto. With their route through the marsh, the Mud ninja think they can come and go as they please. We'll be seeing them again soon."

Naruto nodded and looked a little happier. "And when we do, we'll kick their butts!"

They decided to send a message to Konoha for a mapping and surveying team. Until the team arrived, they would have to keep watch. Once they had hastily set up camp in the branches of a huge black pine that stood at the edge of the marsh like a watchtower, they sat down around a lantern and wrapped their cloaks about them.

"Here you go, Naruto, Sakura," said Kakashi, holding out their field rations.

Breaking the seals on the packets, for a moment there was a quiet of biting, chewing and grimacing, until Naruto gasped and gagged for air. "Why can't they make them taste like miso or something instead of sawdust?"

"It says on the packet that these are Field Rations Version 3.2," Sakura read off the foil in her hand. "They should taste better than the 3.1 rations we had last time we went on a long trip."

"Not quite, Sakura-chan." Kakashi adjusted the front of his mask and dusted the crumbs from his jacket. "It means that they're supposed to give you more stamina than the rations we had last time. If you want something with more flavour, I hear that frog tastes like chicken, and there is a marsh just – "

"When did we last go on a long trip again?" Naruto asked, chewing slowly on the ration bar with watering eyes.

Sakura looked at him and lowered her ration bar.

Naruto slowed his chewing. He glanced down at his feet. "Oh. Oh yeah. That's right. Looking for Sasuke."

The brief silence that followed wasn't awkward, but simply, just for a moment, sadly aware that there was one empty space around the lantern. Kakashi rolled his eyes up towards the black branches above them, counting down until the best moment for him to step in and clear his throat, but Naruto suddenly said, "Wonder what that bastard's up to now."

"Making a name for himself no doubt," Kakashi quipped, trying to lighten the tone. He flicked up a finger. "Ah yes, I thought I'd show you something amusing! Just a moment."

He turned to his pack and began rummaging inside. When he pulled out a book, Naruto instinctively shrank away. Sakura squeaked and covered her eyes.

"No, it's not what you think it is," Kakashi deadpanned, sighing and waving the book in front of Naruto's face to prove his point. "It's the latest edition of the Bingo Book, and there's a new page for our old friend – "

"What?" cried Naruto. "Give me that book!"

"You can look it in a moment. Now let your sensei have his fun first. A couple of us jounin realised something the other day when we were looking through..."

Naruto and Sakura watched in bemusement as Kakashi flipped through the pages until he came to a page that was dense with writing and had a grainy photograph of a stern-looking face on it. He held up the book: "This is Itachi."

"We know, Sensei." Sakura squinted at the picture critically. "The quality of the photos in the Bingo Book hasn't got any better, has it?"

"Sakura, the photographer of the Bingo Book was using a scoping jutsu from three hundred metres away and he still nearly died getting this photo," said Kakashi sternly, narrowing his eyes. "You should show some more appreciation. Anyway," he turned one page, "in alphabetical order, the next one is – "

"Sasuke!" Naruto exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly.

"Now keep looking at Sasuke – " Kakashi let the page slowly flip over before looking up at Naruto and Sakura, clearly beaming beneath the mask. "Haha! See?"

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, Sensei?"

"That's Itachi," Naruto said blandly. "You're just covering his tear troughs with your thumbs."

"I know that. But look!" Kakashi lifted his thumbs and turned the page to Sasuke, then flicked forward again to Itachi's photo and planted his fingers on the man's curiously prominent facial lines. "They look exactly the same!"

"Is that," began Sakura, sounding about as unimpressed as Tsunade finding all the 'hospital use' ice cream missing from the store room, "a jounin's idea of a joke?"

"I thought a jounin's idea of a joke was Gai-sensei," Naruto remarked.

Kakashi regarded the two of them with a deep disappointment. "I was wrong. You two are still much too young to understand the adult sense of humour."

Before Naruto could untangle the cloak from his shoulders and leap to his feet, there was a soft noise like tearing fabric, a plume of smoke, and a bandy-legged bulldog with a Konoha forehead protector appeared on the branch beside them. Its eyes were rheumy and red. The folds of flesh around its face and jaw _wobbled_ and its crumpled-looking head was the shape of a battered football in desperate need of pumping.

"Yo, Master Kakashi," it said, lisping through its underbite and drooling. "I got your message to Tsunade. She's just sent out a squad of six. The surveying ninja are travelling light and, from what I saw, they travel fast, so they'll be with you the day after next."

"Good work, Purupuru." Kakashi tossed the dog a biscuit, which Purupuru snapped out of the air.

Suddenly Kakashi froze. He watched the bulldog crunching the biscuit between its teeth and then slowly looked down at the Bingo Book in his hand. From Sasuke's page, he turned it over to Itachi's, and stared.

"These lines on Itachi's face," he started quietly, putting a thumb and a finger to his chin. "Who told you they were tear troughs, Naruto?"

"Sakura-chan, and I know she's right, because she's a medic and she knows all about genetics and weird biology and stuff," Naruto replied, grinning toothily at Sakura as though he had paid her a wonderful compliment.

Sakura shrugged. "It was either that or nasolabial folds, and I don't think Itachi laughs enough to qualify for those."

"Well I've had a better idea," said Kakashi with a nod. He turned to Purupuru the bulldog. "Purupuru, could you come here for a moment?"

Purupuru swallowed the biscuit and edged somewhat reluctantly along the branch towards them. When he was within arm's reach, Kakashi seized him by the scruff of the neck, picked him up and dropped Purupuru in front of him. Folds of flesh expanded and collapsed like an accordion. Purupuru sighed as though he was used to being manhandled all the time.

"How much do either of you know about dog breeding?"

Sakura and Naruto exchanged a nervous glance.

"I see. Well, here's a crash course then in the miracle of selective breeding," Kakashi continued, ignoring Sakura's blushing. He put his hands around Purupuru's face. "Bulldogs were bred for fighting. Some people might say they're plug ugly and look like shrunken heads – apologies for any offence, Purupuru – "

"None taken. Reality is cruel," Purupuru said, although his voice was somewhat muffled by Kakashi's hands.

"- but every inch of the bulldog has been designed for success in bullbaiting. They've got a low centre of gravity to stand their ground, wide mouth with a strong jaw for a firm bite, and these folds and lines on its face," Kakashi looked up at Naruto and Sakura to make sure they were paying attention, "have been bred into the bulldog to act as channels for blood. Uchiha Fugaku also had these lines on his face, so potentially there's a genetic basis to them."

"My head's hurting," muttered Naruto.

"Now, what else in the Uchiha clan has a genetic basis?" Kakashi went on, playing with the folds on Purupuru's face. "Sakura? Any guesses?"

"The Sharingan, sensei?" Sakura answered reluctantly.

"The Sharingan. Precisely," said Kakashi with a teacherly nod of approval. "And overusing the Mangekyo Sharingan can make your eyes weep blood. These lines on Itachi's face are Uchiha genetic blood channels to drain blood out of the way of their mouth."

Sakura blinked slowly, the corners of her lips twitching. "Like Purupuru's?"

Kakashi nodded and patted Purupuru's head. "Just like Purupuru's blood drainage folds here."

Sakura slapped her palm to her forehead. Naruto gaped, glanced down at the bulldog, who was rolling its eyes, before saying, "Nope. I don't buy it. Sakura-chan says they're tear troughs, so I'm going to say they're tear troughs too."

Kakashi let Purupuru's face go and the dog slumped forward to rest its chin on its paws. The corner of Kakashi's eye turned up again in a smile. "Naruto, do you even know what tear troughs are?"

Naruto's mouth opened and closed and a blank expression flickered across his face. "It's from…you know, because he's deep down probably really depressed and all…Itachi crying a lot?"

Kakashi arched an eyebrow at Sakura, who folded her arms and pursed her lips. "I already tried explaining once, sensei, but I couldn't keep his attention long enough for him to listen."

"Itachi doesn't cry?" Naruto seemed sceptical. He shook his head in fierce denial. "But Sasuke cries loads!"

"Naruto, you've never seen Sasuke cry," Sakura argued. "You're just saying that because, for some reason, you still think of him as your rival and you can't justify crying lots unless he does. I mean, Naruto, you really could do with some drainage channels on your face. You cry more than I do."

"Ouch. Burn." Naruto and Sakura glared at Kakashi, who held up his hand and smiled innocently. "I accidentally touched the lid of the lantern."

Naruto turned back to Sakura with a mischievous grin. "I bet Sasuke does cry. Bet he poses with it too. He'll find a nice rock on a shore, or a cliff, and when the sun's setting, and the atmosphere's totally perfect, he'll cry into the sunset, then when he's done, he'll turn around, the wind blowing his hair, and he'll say something cool like, 'It's just the salt wind in my eyes' -"

Sakura raised her fist and Naruto's voice rose an octave higher as he squeaked, "- But don't worry, I'm sure they're very, very manly tears - "

"Naruto – "

As Naruto let Sakura punch him, Purupuru made a low rumbling noise in his throat. Kakashi started. He patted his pockets. "Sorry. I should probably give you another biscuit for that - "

"Don't need one." Purupuru looked up at Kakashi from under his sagging eyebrows. "That's a good team you've got there. It's nice to see you having a laugh for once."

Kakashi hesitated and looked across the lantern at the two young ninjas opposite. They had moved on to a very verbal argument indeed. Kakashi had a feeling that Naruto would win, because he was too stubborn to lose. He was reliable in that way, but they couldn't underestimate Sakura. She was becoming quite well versed in Arguing-no-Jutsu Tsunade-style.

He looked down at the Bingo Book and turned to Sasuke's page. There wasn't much writing yet. Kakashi was amused to note that Sasuke's eyes were turned towards the scope. He had noticed the Bingo Book photographer even from three hundred metres away.

Kakashi closed the book and tucked it into his bag.

"They've got a bit more to go yet," he said to Purupuru, before raising his voice. "Alright, alright, calm down now. We're supposed to be on watch for rogue Mud ninja remember?"

"You can talk!"

Purupuru closed his eyes and vanished in a puff of smoke, unnoticed.

* * *

**Final part, we'll hear something from Itachi. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	3. Itachi and Sasuke and the Spell of Rain

**Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Masashi Kishimoto and the Naruto franchise.**

**Author's Note: Thank you, Analon, for your continued support. It's nice to know that you came back to read the second chapter and I hope you enjoy this one! Thank you also to anybody else who stopped by to read these chapters. This chapter goes a little bit meta, and is probably more sentimental than funny, but I hope it delivers.**

* * *

The instant they were out of the house and rounding the gates of the Uchiha compound, Itachi had known there was something up with his brother. As far as Itachi was concerned, it was as obvious as the effort Sasuke was putting into trying to hide it. His mouth was pursed in a thin line like he was holding back a frog, and when he thought Itachi wasn't looking his eyes would slide sideways and up to stare, or perhaps even glare, until Itachi looked back.

It was Saturday afternoon. Sasuke had come back from his half-day at school bouncing and cheerful as a puppy, although from what Itachi had grasped from the teachers' reports Sasuke was a very different kid in class.

_Hardworking, but quiet, and requires prompting to contribute although his contributions are always useful. _

To their surprise, Fugaku had come back from the Police Force HQ for lunch and Saturday lunch became that rare thing of a family meal. Itachi suspected it was because Mikoto had bought a crab the size of a coffee table the day before, but he couldn't help but wonder what strange jutsu had been employed to extract Fugaku from his HQ office. Having said that, Itachi himself was barely at home in the weekends any more. In fact, this was the first time he had been at home on Saturday for weeks? Months? Maybe three.

It had been a long mission. When Mikoto had unlocked the door for him in the early hours of the morning, holding a flickering candle above her head, in her momentarily suspicious then relieved gaze, he had felt like a stranger. "Welcome home," she had whispered, as he stepped over the threshold, and smelled the sweet wheat smell of tatami, and the spice of wood polish.

He had left to deliver his reports before the rest of the house had woken up. Sasuke and Fugaku must have been told over breakfast that Itachi had returned. For a moment, Itachi entertained himself with the thought that Fugaku had come back at lunch especially to see him. No. Definitely no. Absolutely not.

But just maybe?

Sasuke was scurrying along beside him, putting in a hop every now and again to keep up with his brother's strides. Itachi started slowing down, gently, so that Sasuke wouldn't notice.

Sasuke had seemed happy enough over the lunch table amidst flying crab shell pieces, perhaps even more so than usual. Mikoto had been showing him where to find the best meat. Itachi had taught him how to use a pick to get at the meat in the tips of the legs, and they had talked, although come to think of it, it had been mostly Fugaku and Itachi doing the talking, allowing, only for a few seconds, a brisk report from Sasuke on what he had learned at school. Unfortunately for Sasuke, something about their father, and these days Itachi, tended to turn conversations into conferences.

"Sasuke," Itachi had said, as he noticed his brother seem to shrink in on himself, "how about I show you a new shuriken trick after lunch?"

Fugaku sipped his soup. "Do you have time for that?"

"I've handed in my report. I should have a couple of hours before the next briefing."

* * *

A drop of water landed on Itachi's forehead and slipped down his nose. He looked up.

"Niisan, it's going to rain."

"Just our luck, eh?" Itachi sighed, turning to Sasuke. "We'll wait it out somewhere. It's probably only going to be a flash fall anyway."

"I've trained in the rain before," said Sasuke with a scowl.

"There's a road shrine just round those trees, we can wait it out there," Itachi continued as though he hadn't heard him, then added with a smile. "Don't do that too often. Mum will get worried."

It had been a clear blue sky moments earlier. As the lone black cloud passed over, neither a thunderhead nor a bank, just a single heavy cloud lost on a sunny day, Itachi and Sasuke took shelter under the eaves of the roadside shrine. The rain began to fall not much later.

"It's coming down quite heavier than I thought," Itachi remarked, peering round the eaves as Sasuke examined the offerings that had been left there. There was a cream bun. Someone had left a can of beer. "The ground's getting sticky. Sorry, Sasuke. We'll have to save that shuriken trick for another day. Next time."

"You always say that, Niisan," grumbled Sasuke, sitting on the ground. "Maybe next time. What next time? When is next time?"

That sounded like a rant waiting to happen. Itachi glanced down, then closed his eyes and sighed. "Was it something Father said at lunch?" Sasuke pursed his lips tighter. Ah, Itachi thought, that's the senbon in the target's eye. "He seems proud of how you're doing at school."

"Not as proud as he is of you," Sasuke replied quietly but with an edge of bitterness that told Itachi the boy had been brooding whilst his brother was way. "He's always talking about you. And whatever I do, he's always comparing me to you. And it's not just him. It's everybody. At school, all the teachers, they're always saying that I do well _because I'm your brother_, and they expect me to keep doing well _because I'm your brother_. The man at the dango shop, he keeps trying to sell me dango because _you_ like them and _I'm your brother._"

Itachi couldn't help smiling. The last angry person he had 'had a discussion with' was a colleague disposing of a body. It was the same childish tone trying to express a sense of injustice they couldn't entirely explain. "We've had a similar conversation to this before, Sasuke."

"I know, Niisan," Sasuke said glumly. "But it doesn't stop them comparing me to you. They used to say I looked like Mum. Now they're even comparing how I look to you. 'Oh, little Sasuke's growing out his hair! Bless him, he's always chasing his brother.'"

"Is that an impression of Aunt Mitsuyo?" Sasuke put on an expression of wide-eyed innocence but there was a touch of a smirk to his face and Itachi laughed. "I see. Well, if you're worried about growing up to look like me, I have something to say about that."

The rain drummed on the roof. Itachi thought of Mikoto washing chickpeas in a bowl. He thought of the deadly patter of slingshotted stones falling all around him. He sat down beside Sasuke.

"I'm not worried I'm going to look like you," Sasuke said hastily.

"No, but you're worried you're always going to be compared to me; that you'll never get to be yourself; that you'll forever be mistaken for me as my shadow." Itachi looked Sasuke levelly in the eye, to make sure he was listening. "See these lines on my face?"

Sasuke nodded, curious, and then a flicker of a shadow passed over his face. "Father has them too."

"That's right, but just because I look like him doesn't mean he likes me any more than you."

"Niisan, I didn't say that," protested Sasuke.

"I know, but you were thinking it." Itachi chuckled as his little brother's face reddened. Sasuke was still so easy to read. "When people see the two of us standing side by side, these lines on my face instantly tells anybody comparing us the difference between you and me. We look similar, but very different, so we'll be able to live two separate lives without you being mistaken for me. These lines," Itachi lowered his voice and hardened his face into the cold mask he used for business, "they've been drawn on my face to make me look stern, cold and intimidating. I look like the bad guy, so that you, Sasuke, get to look like the good guy. Without them, we'd look just the same."

Sasuke stared at his face incredulously. "I don't think you could ever be a bad guy."

Itachi blinked. "Oh really?"

"Niisan, you can be whatever you want, but you wouldn't be happy being a bad guy. And me," Sasuke chewed his lip and scowled, "I'd suck at being a good guy."

Already brooding, habitually bitter and with a tendency to hold grudges, part of Itachi was tempted to agree, but he pushed the thought aside. As the cloud began to drift on and dissipate, the day was brightening and the rain clearing up. No doubt a person of the more sentimental disposition would look up and start searching for rainbows.

Itachi aimed his two fingers at the furrow between Sasuke's eyebrows and tapped.

"Ow!" Sasuke rubbed the spot between his eyes and peered vengefully up at him, before frowning again. "Niisan, why are you covering your face lines with your hands?"

To cheer you up, Itachi wanted to say. Wasn't that the universal purpose of embarrassing yourself by doing stupid things? To humour those around you? And besides, this was just for Sasuke. Nobody would know. "I'm showing you what you're going to look like in five years' time."

"I'm _not_ going to look like you without your face lines," Sasuke argued petulantly.

"I look just like you," Itachi tried teasing him. Yes, the rain was easing off at last.

"No you don't." Sasuke looked at him closely, his black eyes surprisingly sharp for his age. "You look old. Not in the wise way. The tired and stressed way."

And Itachi had laughed about how easily he could read Sasuke, when Sasuke had been reading him back all along. As the old saying went, if you stare too long through a window, remember the glass goes both ways.

Rain dripped down off the corners of the shelter and that was it. The short spell of rain was over. Itachi stood up and brushed off his trousers.

"Remember to thank the spirit for the shelter," he told Sasuke.

The two of them put their hands together and briefly bowed their heads in front of the shrine. When they stepped out onto the road, it was glistening and damp. The air was fresh and smelled of pine sap and mulch.

"Watch out for the slugs and snails," Sasuke said earnestly as they stepped out from the shelter.

Itachi looked at him thoughtfully. "You're actually quite kind, aren't you, Sasuke?"

"No, I'm not," snorted Sasuke, his face glowing with embarrassment. "It's just gross, that's all. And if we're both going to be ninjas, we need practice watching where we walk."

Withholding the obvious comment that Itachi already was a ninja, and an efficient, much sought-after and deadly ninja at that, Itachi walked alongside his brother in silence, and wished that this moment would go on – this moment with just the two of them, walking side by side on a road filled with puddles, talking about bad guys and good guys like it would always be obvious who they were.


End file.
